Coming to Terms
by snowflake07
Summary: Faye had moved on. She was over it, over him. She had a new life, one that didn't include any Julias or Visciouses or Grens and definitely no Spike Spiegels. Which of course meant that he just had to come and ruin it.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer:Do not own Bebop

**Coming to Terms**

Her hair was different. He supposed that as a man, noticing that didn't really go for much, but it was true. It was longer…darker. It caressed her face and had the appearance that she'd just run her fingers through it; but he'd been watching her for some time now and she had yet to do so. That wasn't all that was different about her though. Her attire was different. Gone were her tacky looking yellow shorts and matching top. Although her current garments didn't count for much considering…

Of all the places in the universe he'd expected to find Faye Valentine it wasn't here. Shacking up somewhere with some chick –probably lesbian but as of yet not self aware- why not? Hiding out on Mars or Ganymede trying to lay low after having recently bailing out on something that probably could've been worthwhile – that would be the Faye he knew.

But this one, _this_ Faye was, firstly, wearing his trench coat, the one he was pretty sure he'd died in. Secondly, _this_ Faye was currently parading herself around on stage at some seedy, hole-in-the-ground bar on Callisto, Jupiter's forgotten rock-the kind of bar where you could order a titty fuck with a double finger of watered down scotch. And finally, the cherry on top for this whole mind-fuck of an experience was that according to the audience _this_ Faye –_his _Faye was a regular with a _name_, "The Lost Maiden."

Well fuck him sideways.

He was surprised to find his cup empty, and even more surprised to find her standing in front of him.

"You look lost, cowboy," she said to him, her tone clearly relaying her displeasure at his presence.

"No more than you." He signaled the bartender for a refill, but found she'd covered his glass with her hand. She took the seat adjacent to his, crossing her legs. It seemed he'd become part of the show. The flap of the coat-his coat- had fallen open revealing enough of her legs to just barely be considered decent. Just barely. He directed his gaze to her face, resolute now to keep it from wandering further.

Her head was tilted back and for a second he felt as if he was watching the scene play out from the position of a fly on the wall. The image of her in stark profile seared itself into his consciousness and made him acutely aware of a restlessness that had seized him since he'd set foot in the bar. The music throbbed in his head, her scent assaulted him, he felt the atmosphere coating him heavy and clinging calling to parts of his soul, evil parts that were supposed to have been laid to ground. Parts that were supposed to have been absolved at the death of Viscous and the closure of the chapter titled 'Julia'.

What a fuck of a chapter that was.

He felt her hand slide across his shirt before he registered her moving. Her fingers ghosted over his ribcage and the holster of his gun where she tucked her fingers in pulling out his last two cigarettes. She place one between his lips, keeping the other for herself. His own hand on reflex was brining up his zippo already aflame.

She made to accept the light, so being Spike Spiegel, he took the opportunity as it had so beautifully presented itself to annoy the hell out of her and regain some equal footing. He lit his own cigarette, ignoring her, and tucked the lighter back into his pocket. He smirked as she scowled in aggravation but she recovered quickly. Her hand moved to rest on his thigh and he froze, unsure of this new form of contact.

He watched her as she leaned in, eyes closed so he could make out the fan of her eyelashes against her cheeks. She touched the end of the butt to his and upon inhaling caught his gaze. It was piercing and almost accusatory, the intensity of it caused him to suck in a breath cherrying the end of his own and lighting hers in the process.

She exhaled and he thought then that she'd move away having finished toying with him. But the hand on his thigh glided upwards coming dangerously close to his groin before it slid over his chest and around to the back of his neck, then tangled itself in his hair. Faye leaned in even closer and just when Spike was certain that she was going to break all barriers regarding personal space her breath tickled his ear and her voice followed.

"Go back to whatever grave you dug yourself out of, Spike, before I put you back in it myself."

The coldness that followed her departure was not nearly as bad as watching her get back on stage picking up right where she left off. She blew him a kiss over her shoulder before turning her back to the audience. She began unbuttoning the trench coat, sliding it off to reveal a flawless back before letting it trail lower. He didn't stick around to see the rest.


	2. Chapter 2

He shouldn't be back here. It's not like there was a shortage of bars like this one. There were plenty of them scattered across the galaxy. This moon was not special, it wasn't even like Jupiter didn't have enough moons, sixty-four to choose from right? Albeit that some were only large enough for one small town, but a little isolation would do him good. He could have his own bar, drink off all his own liquor, go on a drunken rampage in a town that he owned, and fuck the rest of the universe. But he'd be damned him if he let Faye run him out of this one.

Well first he would have to enter it in order for her to run him to run him out. Currently he was… he was NOT stealing himself in preparation to see her again. Nope, he was just taking in the last bit of fresh air he'd get for the next few hours. Yeah... that sounded right. Besides he was curious. He couldn't honestly believe that she had given up the old life. A stripper? Really, Faye. There had to be more than to it than that. He couldn't see her trading in the prestigious title of Lady Luck for the lackluster one of Lost Maiden or the risqué Poker Alice for whatever the hell she went by now.

So it was with that thought that he discarded his lit cigarette and made to enter the bar; the very same through which Faye was exiting, stinking drunk no less, with some snot-faced little shit as her knight in shining armor to escort the 'fair maiden' home. The pair didn't see him or if they did they paid him no mind. The kid was too busy trying to cop a feel and Faye was too busy trying to become his second skin. And that's when Spike got angry. He'd seen Faye drunk before nut never totally shit-faced like she was now, at least not in public. He'd never seen her like this, ever. He'd seen of course the aftermath of such excursions, but she'd had at least the decency to conduct them in solitude—never where she'd find herself the position to be preyed upon. Not like now.

Against his better judgment he followed them down the street, through some deserted alleyway, and then down some quiet side street. His anger had transformed from a smolder to a rolling boil. They were in a part of town that wasn't quite deserted but no one would look out their window or come investigating if they heard a scream in the night. The kid was laying his trap, probably had some two bit shack ready for just these kinds of 'chivalrous' acts where he brought all his victims too. He kept waiting for Faye snap out of it and put a knee in the kid's groin and be done with it. But she didn't, the pair stumbled down the street, she sidled even closer if that was possible, and she just kept giggling. That was the worst of it, her goddamn giggling. They'd been walking for twenty minutes now; even drunk, what could be so goddamn funny?

As he watched the pair finally stopped at small apartment building. The kid helped her up the stairs and held her up while she fumbled with the keys.

"Thank you for walking me home, you really didn't have to. I can take of myself you know," her voice, low and sultry, drifted to him across the street. He snickered from his hiding place. He'd like to see that: Faye taking care of herself.

The kid mumbled something incoherently, probably some rehearsed line about how it was the least he could do.

"I used to be a bounty hunter you know, oh oops!" Faye giggled, "I probably shouldn't have told you that, but those days are long gone." She giggled again, and stumbled through the now open door. "Why don't you come inside, get something to eat before you go, John?" Spike scoffed, who named their kid John nowadays, anyway.

A wide, sinister smile appeared on _John's_ face; Spike could see it from where he stood several yards down the street. It was a smile that made his blood boil and his trigger finger itch. Fuck it. At this point the bitch deserved what she got. She knew better than to bring men home, she knew better than to even show them where she lived let alone invite them inside. Whatever happened wasn't his fault. She'd just as much told him to go to hell; she'd made it clear she had no desire to be civil towards each other let alone amicable. Well, he'd be waiting, along with all of hell when she got there which shouldn't be too much longer now.

He lit his last cigarette debating his next course of action. The sound of breaking glass and two gunshots shook him out of his thoughts and in the next instant he found himself running. He kicked in the door her front door and followed the sounds of struggling to a small bedroom in the back of the apartment.

Just inside the room a body lay sprawled on the floor, a bloodied knife on the floor next to it. Faye was nowhere to be seen. It was as Spike moved across into the room that he registered three sounds. The first being the whiz of a bullet by his head, the second being the dull _thunk_ it made in the wall to his left, and the third being the creak of floorboards under his feet. Damn, he was getting rusty. He should've known better than to be so noisy; it was a stupid rooky mistake that cost many their lives. One he shouldn't have been making.

"Spike?" her voice sound vulnerable and shaky. "What the hell is wrong with you, I could have killed you." Ah, now that was much better, snarky and self-righteous suited her much better.

"Not with that kind of aim," he replied. He walked over to the body and rolled it over with his boot. The kid groaned in protest, likely due bullet hole lodged in his chest. "He's not dead, Faye."

"No, it'd be pointless if he were." She stayed where she was on the floor of the opposite wall, her head in her hand.

Both their heads snapped up at the sound of the front door opening. Spike pulled out his Jericho and flattened himself against the side of the door to the room, noting with irritation that Faye had still made no attempt to move.

"Jesus, Faye. I told you I should've come along." Spike's brow furrowed, he knew that voice.

Faye visibly relaxed, stood, and walked over to place her gun on the night table. "I told you," she said. "It's not a place for kids. Besides I don't want anyone seeing us together. It's -"

Spike felt a prick on thigh before he felt his limbs grow heavy. What was happening? He couldn't move, he felt trapped within his body. All senses alert, but not able make his body obey him. A girl about half-a-head shorter than Faye appeared in his view. Her face was obscured by long bangs, but it was the color of her hair the sparked something in his memory. Bright, red-orange hair. Before his mind could catch up the girl moved out of view, unable to turn his head he settled instead for listening to their conversation.

"I know, I know…really Faye-Faye, we got to work on your subtlety."

"Never had it and I never found I needed it," Faye replied breezily, taking a seat on the bed.

"So what you gonna do with our guest?" Their voices were getting echoey and his vision was beginning to blur.

"I'm gonna kick him out on ass after he fixes everything he broke," Faye replied dragging herself to her feet. She spared a glance at Spike.

"Right, so you'll be okay with him til morning? I'll take care of this guy," said the girl jerking a thumb at the groaning body on the floor. "And I'll back around midmorning." The girl began binding the semi-conscious kid's hands and feet. Together she and Faye dragged him out of the apartment and into the ship waiting outside.

"Yeah, sounds good, just be careful. Don't do anything I would do, and keep your comm on."

The girl turned, smiling at Faye over her shoulder, "I never do anything you would do. See ya later."


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Still don't own it

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><p>For a woman who claimed to have not a penny to her name nor any worldly possessions save the clothes on her back, she was certainly changing outfits like some kind of mad hatter with a shopping problem. Or maybe she was just a klepto. He'd never seen Faye actually shop, just gamble. For some reason his mind was stuck on replay and all he could think of was how she looked coming out of the bar.<p>

She been dressed holiday version of his trench coat of blue crushed velvet and fringed with white fur. Somehow she'd managed to find the only one on all of Callisto that was obscenely low cut. The hood had fallen back to reveal her dark mane of hair. It was cold on Callisto, not nearly as cold as on Titan, but enough for the coat to be actually appropriate. He remembered wondering in the back of his mind if she had anything on underneath it. To complete the outfit Faye had on what could only be called 'come fuck me' stilettos, not heels, stilettos. It was these stilettos that greeted him when came to on the floor of Faye's bedroom.

"You could've at least rolled me over to make sure I didn't swallow my tongue," he rasped.

"That would imply that I care whether or not you died," Faye said walking out of the room. "Besides I thought that I'd take a chance on figuring out how you've managed to play a cat with nine lives."

"Apparently, not today," he groaned as he tried to stand. But after considering his pounding head he opted for crawling out of the room. He found Faye seated in an armchair in what he assumed was the living room with a bottle of whiskey in her hand.

"Don't' you think you've had enough for the evening?" he asked pulling himself onto her couch. It was still the same day right?

"Not nearly, I'm still conscious and you're still here." In contrast to her words she poured him a generous glass and pushed it in his direction. "The headache will pass in a few minutes and I assume you have nowhere else to go since you seem to be making yourself comfortable on my couch."

"Who was he, Faye?" The air in the room became thick and Faye felt her breath leave her for a moment.

"I don't need to explain myself, least of all to you, Spike."

She had no idea why she playing it like this, avoiding his question. The kid was just a bounty, some low-life who got his rocks off by violently raping and mutilating women like the one she pretended to be. Some kind of screw up notion of giving them what they were really asking for. After all who'd take a whore's word? It really wasn't a big deal, just money in the bank.

"What the hell did you think you were doing?" he asked, his voice harsh and biting.

She smirked, "Really, Spike… careful now, before you hurt yourself flexing that macho muscle." Not one of her better comebacks but it still grated. She rose to her feet, hoping she didn't appear as unsteady as she felt. Maybe she _had_ had enough. She untied the coat that she'd yet to take off since this whole started purposely blocking her body from his view. She made her way to the bathroom to wash off her makeup.

Her muffled voice reached him from the other side of the door. "Look, Spike, I'm tired. Since I drugged you I guess I'm responsible for you til the effects wear off. Don't get too comfortable on my couch. I like the way it looks without you sleeping on it."

He succumbed to the pounding of his head and let the whiskey push him over brink into the black abyss of unconsciousness.

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><p>AN: Ok, moment of truth. I've had this story staring me back in the face for about a month and I can't decide if I'm going to continue it or not. There are two other chapters written sort of... If you like it and want to see where it goes please review. If not I can take a hint.


	4. Chapter 4

Still don't own it. Enjoy.

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><p>This was becoming more than a nuisance. He hated the way she kept worming her way under his skin. And her goddamn clothes—did she not have a decent outfit in her seemingly endless array? He actually longed for those tacky pink tights and the matching yellow top and shorts. It covered more skin. Faye breezed by him airily in a sheer navy teddy, with a matching lace bra and panties if you could call them that. She disappeared into the bathroom briefly and returned with the stilettos from last night.<p>

He pushed his frustration over her lack of clothing aside and closed his eyes trying to get over the feel of having cotton-mouth and cotton-head.

He must've fallen asleep at some point because he woke up to find the red-head from the night before straddling him, her bangs tickling the sides of his face. She was dressed simply in a baggy red t-shirt that hung off her shoulders.

"She took your Jericho, if that's what you're looking for." He hadn't moved a muscle but something in his face must've betrayed him.

"Are you going to drug me again?" It was the best he could come up with. His head still felt like cotton from whatever she'd dosed him last night.

"No, silly," she giggled. "I just wanted to see if you still smelled the same," she said her face growing serious. His felt his brain make a jolting lurch as he finally placed the girl in his lap. He literally could feel neurons fire and old connections reform as struggled to reconcile the girl before him with the one on the Bebop years ago.

"Ed?"

"The one and only," she giggled and then sniffed him.

Spike shot up, nearly clocking her in the head. "Jesus, Ed!"

"What?" she asked looking up at him with wide brown eyes.

"Get off me!"

"Oh, I get it," said Ed, grinning. She tilted her head to rest on a tan shoulder. "Do I make you uncomfortable, Spike?"

Hell yes she made him uncomfortable. The Ed in front of him was all grown up. She had little pert breasts, a toned figure, big brown eyes, tan golden skin, and much too little clothing to be sitting on top of him and sniffing him.

"Sorry," he said. "It's just the last time I saw you we weren't sure if you were a boy or a girl and now…"

"Now what, Spike?" she said leaning closer.

"Uhh…now…ummm…" He stuttered unsure of what he could say that wouldn't make him like more of an ass.

"You hungry?" Ed interrupted. She leaned back to stretch raising her arms up over her head. Spike gulped as the tee began slide up with them coming dangerously close to exposing her lower half.

"Yeah, starving," he said. Anything to get her off him.

"Cool, let's go eat. I made French toast." She bounded off him and into the kitchen.

Breakfast was a blur. Spike was beginning to feel as though he stepped inside a wormhole. Time made no sense. He felt like he'd been here for weeks on end. It was hard to believe that he'd only met Faye two ago. Ed was halfway done with her breakfast by the time he dragged himself off the couch and into the kitchen. He passed her through the door, a piece toast hanging from her mouth, another in a plate in one hand and a mug of coffee in the other.

"You're not staying?" he questioned. Over her shoulder he spotted Faye pouring herself a fresh cup of coffee.

"Nope, I've got things to do."

"Like what?" He desperately wished she would stay. As uncomfortable as she made him, for some reason Spike didn't want to be alone with Faye.

"Like Ed things," said Ed and she disappeared down the hall. There was some banging and a few minutes later Ed reappeared in a pair of dark cutoff jean shorts, Doc Martins, and signature goggles. Spike was struck by how much she'd changed and how much she'd stayed the same. The girl in front of him was most definitely Ed from her mannerisms to the way she talked and dressed. But this Ed had also acquired a certain maturity that the old Ed had lacked or hadn't yet refined. He watched her as she washed her now empty cup and plate, humming and dancing a little to some tune in her head.

Across from him Faye ate in silence. She seemed not quite awake. She had no makeup on her face making her appear startling young. As he looked at her he noticed a silvery, faded scar that began under her chin, ran the length of her neck, and disappeared somewhere over her shoulder.

For some reason he was bothered by it. Faye had no scars, at least not any that he could remember. The most he ever remembered seeing on her were bruises and those were rare in and of themselves. Even more than that, the scar looked too perfect. It wasn't jagged, like she'd caught her something on something carelessly, it was direct and deliberate. It had been _made_, it wasn't something that had happened to her.

"How'd you get the scar, Faye."

"Why'd you follow me last night, Spike." They stared down each other both equally unwilling to answer the other's question. She turned away from him sighing tiredly. She'd never been able to outlast him in an eye staring contest and she hated it.

"I spent some time with a man who liked to carve his girls instead of fuck them." He made no response so she continued. "It was a debt that finally caught up with me, one I couldn't outrun anymore. What I couldn't pay in woolongs I paid for in blood. Turns out blood and screams pay almost as much as sex does."She fingered the scar almost fondly and he felt sickened by it. He couldn't wrap his mind around the idea that she had been hurt intentionally and purposefully.

Her voice grew light and she sighed, "But that's all done now." It was clear the discussion was over, that she had no intention of discussing anything further so he let it go.

"How'd you find Ed?" he asked, searching for a more neutral topic.

"Hm? Oh Ed? She found me about a year and half ago. She comes and goes as she pleases but lately she's been coming more than going." Faye rose from the table to place her dishes in the sink, then left heading for her bedroom. From his vantage point in the kitchen doorway he watched as she began rummaging through her closet. He watched as she pulled out a black lace corset and matching black lace panties. She made her way to the bathroom and he soon heard the sound of running water.

"Are you going somewhere?" he asked, lighting a cigarette.

"To work, of course. I have to pay the rent somehow." He listened to the sound of her moving around as she bathed. She came out swathed in towels, from her hair to her towel bunny slippers.

"I thought the bounties paid the rent." He had moved from the kitchen to stand like a sentinel outside the bathroom door.

"Why, Spike, I didn't know that kind of thing got you hot," she said smirking up at him. "Anyway those bounties are more like spending money. I just get the added bonus of keeping the number of scum like that in this town to minimum. It helps keep the peace."

He disappeared into the bathroom and she went to her room to dress. She soon heard the sound of running and smiled to herself happily. She'd made sure to use all the hot water; some things, after all, never got old.

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><p><strong>Firstly I must apologize for any typos or missing words. I don't use a beta and there is only so many times I can reread each chapter. Secondly, sorry for the length of time from the last update. I didn't really plan on continuing this, but you all persuaded me! Thank you so much for your reviews! Until next time. <strong>


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: I have not given up on this story. I DO plan on continuing it. Life is just kicking my ass right now, more specifically college. Once finals are over I plan on jumping right in provided my brain still works. Until then...**

**Disclaimer: As always, I don't own it, I just like to play with it. **

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><p>Spike felt this awful sense of frustration borne out of inability to do anything. Following Faye and her would-be stalker the other night had been sorely anticlimactic and disgustingly humiliating. What had been a shitty night had carried over into a shitty morning. Finding out that Ed was indeed a girl, one who had a penchant for poison needles and that Faye had played the wood for some sick fuck's whittling knife made what had been a foul mood, positively black. Worst of all was the fact that not only was he out of cigarettes, but he also had to watch Faye get ready to go back to that same shithole bar and in those same friggin' outfits.<p>

Well, no. He supposed that the cherry on top was the fact this was a girls bathroom. Complete with girly smelling shampoos and body washes with choices such as cherry blossom and vanilla or honeysuckle and orange. He could be a flower or a fruit smoothie or both depending on whether or not he wanted to wash his hair or not, most likely not considering the water had already gone cold. He couldn't even have the pleasure of a relaxing shower.

Movement in the corner of his eye caught his attention. He turned to find himself greeted by Faye's silhouette. She had one leg propped on the bathroom sink and from the looks of it she was putting on stockings. She stopped mid thigh, and Spike watched unable to look away. Faye straightened up, leaving her leg on the sink. Spike followed the arch of leg as she rotated it this way and then that way, apparently trying to make some sort of decision. Faye's silhouette brought the stockinged leg down beside what he assumed was its bare partner. She turned, craning her head to look at her legs from the back. Her back arched slightly, accentuating her curves.

She had to know he was watching her. He wasn't even trying to make it look like he was doing anything that had to do with showering. Some small voice in brain kept telling him he should look away; that he was treading on dangerous territory, but his brain must've blown a fuse somewhere. Standing in the shower with her smell surrounding and her body on this ironic form of hidden display, he felt torn between shame and arousal.

But he was a man and arousal won out over shame. As long as he didn't over think it. Faye was a woman, a good looking one at that. He couldn't deny that, he'd have to be blind or dead. But, he told himself, there was nothing special about her. This was just a physical attraction nothing more, a normal reaction to seeing her body flaunted around for the past few days after not having seen her for so long. He turned away, grabbing the bottle of honeysuckle body wash. As much as he wished he could take himself in hand he would be damned if he ever willingly put himself in a position to catch him masturbating. When Faye sank her teeth into something she had a tendency to never let go. Spike only had so much patience. He could ignore her.

He could, he reasoned, leave after this. He really had no reason to stay. It was just that three years was a long time to be alone, to feel unconnected to the world. Here they were people he knew and who knew him. Even if the relationship was rocky, even if he spent the entire time fighting with Faye and trying to not kill her before someone else did, he was not inclined to be out on his own again. Even if this wasn't permanent, Spike could honestly say he didn't want to leave.

When Spike came out of the shower, Faye was gone. He wondered whether or not she'd chosen to wear the thigh highs or not, and what color they'd been. Everything in the house was neat and orderly. Her bed was made and there were no clothes anywhere. He could go snooping, but that would likely get him kicked out and he had no place to go yet or even worse she'd break something important to him.

But just because he couldn't snoop inside didn't mean he couldn't outside. As much as this town seemed like it was dead, Spike knew better. People always wanted to talk; they just needed someone willing to listen. So he dressed and set out Faye's house with several goals: find a place to stay and find out what the pretty Lost Maiden was _really_ doing in Callisto.

Faye was actually surprised when Spike didn't show up at the bar right away. It was foolish to think he'd actually heeded her words and left. Not knowing where he was made her nervous, or rather leaving him alone in her apartment made her nervous. But then again, being alone with him made her nervous. After Ed had left she couldn't have gotten away from him quickly enough. Their little tête-à-tête over breakfast had been unsettling at best and his reaction even more so. The look on his face was reminiscent of the one he wore the night he left to go fight Vicious. She'd been afraid of him then, one of the few times she could honestly say that. She'd felt that same fear this morning. Had it been directed at her?

"Faye, you alright? You seem a little out of sorts tonight."

She started out of her inner musings. She had a job to do.

"Yeah, sorry, Mike. Just thinking is all."

"Wouldn't have anything to do with that guy who's been hanging around you lately, would it?" She could hear the threat in the underlying tone.

"No, he's nothing to worry about, Mike, he'll be gone soon enough. He's like me; we can never seem set down roots somewhere." But that wasn't true, was it? Spike had been able set down roots, seemed to still have many roots. Annie, Jet, that weird Indian shaman, the bounties to whom he'd seemed to become attached, and even the people that hated him. There wasn't anywhere she'd been where someone hadn't heard of Spike or Julia or Vicious. For people so untouchable and anonymous, who had wanted nothing to do with anyone, they definitely had roots.

A hand waved in front of her face bringing her back to the present. "You're doing it again," said Mike. "What happened with that guy from the other night?"

"He's gone."

"He dead?"

"No. I told you from the start I was only going to kill one man. You were fine with that. You said I could do whatever I want with the rest."

"So what'd you do with him?"

"He had a bounty so I brought him in for it. What he did to…What he did to her he'd done to many others. He's going to die anyway just not by my hand."

"Fine then, so what now?"

"Nothing changes. Now we do what we've been doing for the last two years. He's going to come looking. Whether to admire his work or see who has the gall to spit in his face either way he's going to come, and when he does I'll be here."


	6. Chapter 6

It wasn't often that Faye dreamed. It was something she found unusual. One would think that her subconscious would be biting at the bit to bombard her with broken memories of her past in her nonwaking hours. But this was not the case. Her nights remained dark, empty, and uninterrupted.

But tonight Faye dreamed. She was fishing, of all things, in a small little paddle boat. She was on to the shore and for some odd reason the boat didn't drift out into the lake. Spike lay in the water beside her up to his ribs. He appeared to be sleeping, an arm haphazardly thrown over his eyes. Faye cast a line out and after a little bit of waiting she caught something.

As she reeled it she began to realize that it was not a small fish. Closer and closer it came until finally she could make the body out. What Faye had caught was a shark. It had put up no fight against her, but seemed extremely tired at the same time. She felt giddy and excited wanting to show off to Spike her superior fishing skills. She couldn't remember him ever catching anything, except that one time they'd grilled fish for dinner. (But those had been hopelessly puny and bony, and she was fairly certain Ed had caught three out of the four.)

In the next instant the shark was onboard her small little boat. It lay still there. It was dark grey with black freckles. Faye ran a finger from the tip of its snout to the end of its tail and guessed it to be maybe a little over four feet. It rolled to its side tipping the boat towards Spike. Further and further the boat tipped until finally the shark rolled into the water with plop. Faye leaned over the side of the boat searching for it, it was still a shark after all and she felt a sudden unexplainable fear for Spike.

It surfaced again, fin first, and she watched as it swam up to Spike until it came to a stop just before his armpit. A snout rose out of the water and the mouth opened to bite him. It was then that Faye realized this shark had no teeth. Relief washed through her but it was short lived, she couldn't shake the feeling that this shark was dangerous not just to her but to Spike, as if it were threatening her through him. The shark slid under the water again. She followed its shadow as it slid up and around Spike's arm to curl itself around him. It formed an arc; its tail end near Spike's arm and its head on the other side near his shoulder. The shark rolled to its slide slightly, and she could see its black eye peaking out of the water, looking directly at her. Spike never stirred. They stayed that way for awhile the three of them caught in this silent stalemate before the shark rolled again sliding back into the murkiness of the water. After a minute or two Faye felt a thump on the bottom of her boat, propelling it forward into the lake.

And then suddenly she was in the water, under it. There were fish all around her, long and snakelike. He arms would tangle in them when she tried to paddle. The shadow of the shark wandered in and out of her vision hidden by the bodies of the eels and snakelike fish, but she felt it watching her, hunting her…Just one drop, one drop of blood in the water… one is all it would take…

A part of Faye wanted to stay in this dream. Dreaming was easier than where she was now. Dreaming had no pain, it was easier to simply not wake up. Would death be kind? Would it be as cold as life had been? Or was there really peace at the end?

Three days. It had been three days since anyone had last seen Faye. Seventy-two hours since she'd returned to work, seventy-eight hours since she'd last talked to Ed and almost 83 hours since her tête-à-tête with Spike over breakfast.

4980 minutes. But Spike wasn't counting. Nor was he concerned. Not at all.

And he certainly wasn't looking for her, just walking around town reacquainting himself with new faces and new buildings.

This wasn't new, Faye had run away before. She'd been gone for longer. But if Spike were being honest, Faye hadn't really run away. She hadn't really said good-bye. Not that she ever had before but in her own way Faye always cut ties. It was always clear when she was about to jump ship even if it wasn't immediately clear to her.

She'd eat the last plate of beef without bell peppers and the last of the bourbon (even Jet's secret stash), steal the last pack of his last pack of cigarettes and then take something she could pawn in one glorious coup-de-grace.

Faye had not done any of those things this time. She hadn't bailed on her job; she was adamantly refused to quit this farce of job. She'd even promised Ed to check in with Ed later that day. The argument between him and her wasn't even over. Faye had left things in a state of continuity which meant she was coming back or at least intended to.

If he were honest with himself, Spike knew he wasn't really looking for Faye. He was looking for someone who knew about Faye, the Faye he knew. Not this bullshit one who made her living at a fucking Centerfolds.

Spike never found that someone. But he did find touches of Faye. It had been an accident really. While walking around the city, his comm would pick up interference. It was on the third pass that he realized the interference always occurred in the same places. On the fourth pass he realized the interference was caused by a bug; several to be exact. Faye had bugged the whole fucking city. How did he know it was Faye? Only Faye would set her bugs in nail polish, sectioning the city in a color coded based scheme.

It was surprising and unnerving. Spike couldn't recall a time when Faye had ever been this meticulous. She did her homework when it came to a bounty but this, this was long-term and intricate; this had finesse. Faye did not exercise any of those qualities.

He found her on the fifth day shoe shopping…sort of. He'd almost kept going; again it was her hair that caught his eye; black like a raven's, making her stand out in contrast to everything else. That and the AK-74 she had leveled at the clerk.

The doorbell jingled as he let himself in; she'd left the door unlocked, but taken the time to flip the "closed" sign over.

"Listen, buddy. You really don't wanna be here right now. "

Faye was surrounded by piles of shoes, heels, pumps, stilettos whatever the hell they were. She was currently wearing a midnight blue satin pair. Spike wondered for a moment how Faye would look in them in another setting, one with fewer clothes before he remembered where they were.

Faye looked like shit. Her gun arm had a terrible shake to it. Bruises and scrapes marred Faye's legs like she'd spent a long time on knees and had been dragged back and forth. She wore a pair of boy shorts and a military issued looking shirt. But everything was dirty. Dirt marred Faye's cheeks, forehead, arms; where there wasn't dirt there was dried blood. Everything about Faye's appearance made him feel like any sudden moves would leave them all dead.

"What're doing, Faye?"

"Look, you fuck. I said-," she glanced up. "Oh, it's you. What does it look like I'm doing? I'm looking for the right pair of heels." She returned to sorting through the piles."

"You know her?" asked the panicked clerk. "Look you gotta help me-" He cringed as Faye fired off a round, tilting dangerously from the force of t he recoil.

Spike swore under his breath. "Shit-"

"Shut up, the two of you! I told you this will only take a second."

She reached up on reflex to push her hair back before she stopped herself. The move did not go unnoticed. There was something she didn't want anyone to see. Honestly, Faye looked like a red-eye addict who was out his last dollar and last vial. Sweat ran off her brow and her body shook with tremors occasionally. She swayed unsteadily where she sat but she remained wholly determined in her task.

Spike decided to try a different tactic. "Faye, Ed's been worried about you. Why don't we get you home and we'll come back later? Get you cleaned up some?"

Nothing. She didn't even acknowledge him.

"Faye?"

"Stop saying my name like I'm some fucking psych ward patient!"

"Ok, ok," Spike quickly backed off. "Well this poor soul," he squinted at the kid's name tag, "Nick is it? Nick would really like to get out of here. So why don't we let him go?"

"If he goes I can't buy the shoes. It'd be stealing he's gotta stay until I find the right ones."

Spike gritted his teeth. He knew better than to argue with the logic of a madwoman. A woman who founded her life on stealing and who was now concerned about walking off with a pair of shoes of all fucking things?

Faye sighed and climbed to her feet, looking much too world weary for the woman Spike perceived her to be. She locked gazes with him and the next few moments came as snapshots.

The whites of Faye's eyes.

Faye falling.

The gun falling from Faye's hand.

Faye on the ground convulsing.

The look on Nick's face.

It took Spike a full half-minute to realize that Faye was having a seizure. Everything after that was a blur. Somehow Ed was there or was it over the comm? Coaching him, how to hold Faye's head, making sure her tongue was still there. He didn't remember how they got to the hospital or even when Ed showed up. Just one moment Faye was there and then not.

"Um, excuse me, mister…"

He looked up to find some kid in a white coat staring down at him.

"Hi, I'm Dr. Yu. I'd like to ask you some questions about your friend?"

"You mean Faye?"

"Uh, yes. Faye is it? And her last name?"

"Valentine or so she says, I don't know if she changed it since coming here."

"Ok. Can you tell me anything about what she was doing before you brought her to the hospital?"

" She was holding up a shoe store at gunpoint."

Dr. Yu's face fell for a minute before he recovered himself. Spike watched the young doctor look him up and down, probably looking for a gun. He had no idea where his Jericho was. It was an unnerving feeling.

"Umm, ok, and before that?" asked Dr. Yu.

"I dunno," replied Spike. "We were looking for her."

"Looking for her?"

"Yeah, she was gone. Look, is she gonna be okay?" It was weird asking that question, he didn't think he'd ever asked it before in regards to Faye.

Spike watched as the doctor's demeanor changed. The kid was kidding himself if he thought for a moment that Spike bought this whole friendly conversation. He knew what it was, the kid was reading him. Trying to make sure that he wasn't some abusive boyfriend or something.

"Mr-"

"Spike, just Spike."

The young doc wasn't making eye contact now. "Spike, I was hoping you could tell me more about where Faye was beforehand. Quite frankly, there…there are a lot of questions. Faye's in pretty bad shape right now-"

"When can I see her?" He didn't want to hear any of this.

" If we can stabilize her-"

"'If'?"

Dr. Yu stood, taking the dominant position above Spike, as if he could be intimidated. "Does Faye have any family? Next of kin?"

"No, I'm… me and Ed, we're…that's it. It's just us. Why?" It was weird to think of them as family. The question caught him off guard and part of him felt guilty for not including Jet. But mentioning him would not make the situation any better, so he let it go.

"Look, Mr—I mean Spike. You're not a blood relative. The nature of Ms. Valentine's injuries is very serious and concerning. Until she regains consciousness I can't tell you anything about Faye's condition nor can I in good conscience allow you to see her. Unless she says otherwise when she regains consciousness…"

"That your nice way of telling me to 'fuck off,' Doc?"

"Yeah, I guess so." The doc sighed, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly before finally looking him in the eye.

"Alright then, where's Ed?"

"Who?"

"The other one. I'm pretty sure she's still around here somewhere."

"If you mean the young girl who came in here with you, she seemed pretty upset earlier. I think she left," Dr. Yu replied.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: So I have a feeling that you're al going to hate me after reading this chapter. It'll get tbetter I promise... I think. I had a hard time with this chapter cuz I kept wanting to cut at specific points but then it'd be too short and if I kept it all together then we'd have a whole other mini series. So this is the middle ground. I'm hoping within the next two chapters I can move the plot along a little bit and get Faye and Spike moving towards eachother at least a little, they are very stubborn as you know. Cross your fingers for me.

Disclaimer: Still don't own it.

* * *

><p>There is nothing quite like the sense of loneliness brought about by leaving a hospital by yourself. Spike had done that a lot throughout his lifetime. It was one of the reasons he'd used the street doc so often to patch him up. That and money. Convenience too, he supposed. Yeah, those were all pretty big factors.<p>

His mind was still numb, still stuck on replay. He remembered little things; how Faye's head felt in his hands. Faye falling, convulsing. His hands touching skin too hot, too clammy. The feel of his finger slipping into a cut under Faye's jaw as he held her head still.

He was going to be sick.

His feet carried him to Faye's. Ed found him in the dark, sitting on Faye's couch; a half-empty bottle of bourbon on the coffee table in front of him.

"Hey, there," she said.

"Hey, yourself." He reached for the bottle and took a swig. "Lost you earlier."

Ed crossed the room to sit on the table in front of him. A cigarette appeared miraculously out of nowhere and she watched Spike pat himself down, before she knelt between his legs and lit it for him.

"It's ok, you know," she said.

"What is." It was clear in his tone that he was in no mood to play guessing games.

"How you're feeling now."

Spike leaned in closed to her face; she didn't have to inhale to smell the mix of liquor and tobacco on his breath. "Tell me, Ed, how am I feeling now?" His eyes looked black whether from the lack of lighting in the room or the emotions rolling within. He had a dangerous look about him, one Ed had never seen.

He kissed her, not softly or sweetly. All the anger and frustration he felt included in the kiss. And because it was Spike she let him. Some tiny part of her wanted to know what it would be like. All the men she'd been with up to now, she'd measure up to this man. Not that there'd been many, but all of them had been judged against him. He'd never lied to her even when he should have. He had been a better father than her own and a better friend. So she owed it to him, to offer some measure of comfort the one time he asked for it however misguided it was.

"Spike, you need to stop." Her voice was low, barely a whisper. Foreign to his ears and hers. The Ed of the past was loud, raucous, and blissfully unaware, the Ed in his lap was her polar opposite.

"Tell me why."

"Because I'm not her."

The remark hit home. Hard. He hadn't realized how badly he'd missed Faye, how worried was; that he'd even been worried, until Ed pointed out to him Faye wasn't there… Until Ed hadn't made him realized how much he wanted her to be there, even if it was just to call him an ass and tell him to get out. Was this what it felt like? What Faye had felt all those times? Worrying over Julia had been different. If he were honest, truly honest; worry was never part of the 'Julia' equation. There was anger, desire, confusion, betrayal, hatred, but never worry. More than anything he'd wanted answers to questions he'd never had a chance to ask. He'd wanted to know why. Julia had always been one of the strongest women he knew; it was part of what was so alluring about her. Her self-assuredness and confidence, the lack of fear when others would have turned tail and run a long time ago. So why, _why_ when faced with the choice of him or Vicious did she turn into this cowering, fearful archetype of a battered woman?

Ed shifted on his lap. A subtle show the discomfort she felt, but enough to pull him back to the situation at hand. He pulled his hands back giving her space that she'd so subtly asked for. But instead of fleeing like he thought she would, she leaned forward to rest her head on his chest.

"Is this going to make things weird now? You're not going to freak out or something every time we see each other, are you?

_Undoubtedly. _"You want an honest answer?"

"Not particularly, not today."

He rested a hand on top of her head, rubbing it softly. "No, Ed, this won't make things weird."

He hesitated over the next words, how to tell her that this couldn't happen again. This door was going to remain shut, firmly.

"Good, 'cause you're cute and all but you're kinda old. And honestly I don't think you could keep my attention for long. We'd be doomed for failure from the start." She softened the blow to his ego with a kiss to his cheek, and the words themselves while said in jest to lighten the mood were said softly and with a sorrow that could be felt hiding just under the surface. He knew she'd said the words as much for him as she had for herself.

"Can I be the cool uncle, then?" Spike said with a smirk that he didn't quite feel.

"No, I'd rather keep you as what you've always been to me."

"Really and what is that?"

"I'd rather not say."

"Alright. Why, then?"

"Because sometimes blood isn't thicker than water."

Spike woke up the next morning feeling worse than when he'd gone to bed; which was a huge feat given the emotional rollercoaster of the previous day. Flexing those sets muscles had completely worn him out and he was pretty sure that he was still not 100%. Secretly he wondered if it had something to do with Faye's couch, he'd yet to have a good night's sleep on it yet, which was strange 'cause he'd never met a couch he couldn't happily lay his head on.

He opened his eyes in an attempt to get a better bearing. The empty bourbon bottle teetered dangerously on the edge of the coffee table. His tie wasn't too far from it along with his Jericho, and crumpled, empty pack of cigarettes. Ed's Doc Martins lay a little ways from his own pile along with what looked like a rubber ducky, goggles, and a couple of vials that looked suspiciously like the ones syringes went into.

Spike wondered whether or not it was a good thing he saw no syringes. The blanket on top of him shifted, revealing bright red-orange hair.

"Ed get up."

"Not yet, Mr. Ducky's gotta find the bishop that guards the fountain or else he'll be swimming in orange glaze for din-din," Ed mumbled.

He began to shake her before rethinking it, hoping to avoid one of those uncomfortable moments he'd promised her they wouldn't have. Instead he'd wriggled out from underneath her landing ungracefully on the floor. This was good, at least he could still remember promises he'd made the night before. He hadn't drank that much.

He wandered into the bathroom to take a piss and shower, maybe shave. It would be a pleasure to use Faye's shaver and put it back for her to use, none-the-wiser. Just the sort of thing he needed to pick his spirits up.

The Ed-shaped pile was missing from the couch when he came out of the bathroom, and the smell of coffee wafted from the kitchen. A steaming mug lay waiting on the coffee table.

"They tortured her." It was as if he set off a touchswitch the moment he sat down. Ed materialized out of her room, bundled in the blanket. Her voice was sad and little.

"That's where I was yesterday. I was hacking her medical file. Severe dehydration, internal body temp of 40.4ºC, I think they had to put her in an ice bath or something to cool her down. They made me leave. From what I could tell, they're really interested in that wound that runs from her jaw-"

"You ever seen where it ends?"

"No. She—I dunno it's almost like she's protective of it. I dunno, she's never said anything about it."

"But she's working as a stripper…" The sarcasm leaked out more than he intended it to.

"What's your point, Spike?"

"My point is that every inch of her skin is flaunted around on a nightly basis but you're telling me no one has ever gotten a good look or knows anything about that scar?"

" File says they found nanobots in her blood-"

"Ed."

"Look, no one here wants to know anything. As far as they're concerned it's none of their business. Why do you think she's here? She wants to be anonymous. You saw it yourself when you were looking for her, she's the most popular person in this shithole. Do you really think no one had any idea what happened to her? That no one knew where she was for the last 10 days? People only see what they want; Faye knows that better than anyone. She's just ballsy enough to use it to her advantage."

"'Ballsy'?"

"Shut up. I couldn't think of a better word."

"What about you, Ed?"

"What about me?"

"You want to be anonymous to?"

"Me, nah. I couldn't be any more anonymous if I tried. I mean come on, Spike. My name is Ed."

"Yeah, but now we know you're a girl."


End file.
